


Road to Recovery

by AgtSpooky



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-08-25
Updated: 1997-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgtSpooky/pseuds/AgtSpooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is severely injured in a hit and run accident and may never walk again.  The Sentinel and his Guide become closer, deepening their relationship, while trying to deal with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road to Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive any medical inaccuracies I've made. I really did try and research everything. :-)

 

The characters of Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg and Simon Banks are copyright of Pet Fly Productions and UPN. No infringement intended on my part.... just doing some wishful thinking. :-)

________________________________________

 

{bounce, bounce, bounce}

"One more basket and I win, Chief. Ready to cook *and* wash the dishes for a week?"

{bounce, bounce, bounce}

"You seem to forget, big guy, but we're *tied*. One more basket and *I* win."

{bounce, bounce, bounce}

"Yeah, but *I've* got the ball, Darwin."

Blair was doomed and he knew it . How he managed to keep the game as close as he'd had was beyond him. Although he had a sneaking suspicion that his partner had been toying with him the entire game; missing shots he should have gotten, not trying hard enough to block Blair's shots...

Blair smiled. Ah, who cared? It was a perfect summer day; puffy white clouds floated lazily overhead in a clear, blue sky, the birds were singing and he was playing basketball with his best friend. Blair took a moment to study Jim.

The big man was smiling, standing there in dark blue sweat- pants, white t-shirt and wearing his Jags cap on backwards... taunting Blair with the ball he was dribbling.

Yep. Life was good.

"Well put up or shut up, big guy," Blair demanded with a smile.

That's all it took to spur Jim into action. He pushed the ball forward, driving towards the basket and victory. Blair had positioned himself off to the left side of the basket and a bit in front. Just as Jim launched himself up for his layout, Blair surged forward, slamming into his friend full-body, chest to chest. Blair's arm flew up at the same time, hitting Jim's wrist. The ball missed it's mark and instead ricocheted off the rim.

Both men came down laughing, watching as the ball bounced off the court, onto the sidewalk and into the middle of the street.

"Foul!" cried Jim, smiling, then pointing to their wayward ball. "And now look what you did."

"Foul? No way, man," replied Blair, trying to suppress a grin, knowing full well what he'd done.

Jim just gave him a sarcastic look and started off after the ball.

"Wait, man, I'll get it," Blair called. "I knocked it out there."

Jim waved him off. "Save your strength, Chief. You're gonna need it for all that cooking and cleaning," he joked.

Jim reached the curb and made sure the street was clear, not a car in sight, before proceeding into the road. He was two feet from the ball when he suddenly cocked his head to the side, his Sentinel hearing picking up on something.

Then all hell broke loose.

A black Ford Mustang came careening around the corner twenty feet from where Jim stood, blowing through the Stop sign. Hot on it's heels were two Cascade PD squad cars, lights flashing and sirens screaming.

Then time seemed to move in slow motion.

Jim turned to his left, placing his back toward the Mustang, trying to get out of the way as Blair screamed from the sidewalk.

"JIM!!"

He almost made it. But the car was just a bit too fast for the Sentinel. It caught him at the knees, throwing his body into the air like a rag doll, his Jags cap flying off. Blair watched in stunned horror as Jim's back and head connected full-force with the Mustang's windshield, leaving a massive spiderweb pattern in the glass, before his body bounced to the pavement, rolling.

"JIM! NOOO!"

The Mustang never paused, continuing on down the street, the first squad car in hot pursuit. The second squad slammed to a halt, tires squealing as Blair ran out into the street to his fallen friend. He was dimly aware of the officer getting out of his car and calling for the paramedics on his radio.

Blair threw himself down next to Jim's crumpled, still form. The detective lay on his side, curled up, one arm thrown up over his face, obscuring it from Blair's view.

"OhGodOhGodOhGod," chanted Blair, eyes wide with fear. "Jim...Jim! Don't you dare die on me, Jim! I love you, do you hear me?" The words flowed unchecked from Blair's mouth, startling the young man, realizing he'd said outloud for the first time what he'd felt in his heart and kept secret for months now. He carefully lowered the arm covering Jim's face, uncovering the closed eyes and pale face, scraped and bloody from his collision with the pavement. The Sentinel didn't stir and Blair couldn't tell if he was breathing. He cupped his left hand around Jim's neck and head, and placed his right on his friend's shoulder. He slowly rolled him onto his back, gasping in horror at the amount of blood on his left hand as he pulled it clear. The back of Jim's head was bleeding badly. He quickly stripped off his own t-shirt and placed it beneath the older man's head just as the police officer rushed over. He was carrying his First Aid kit and yellow emergency blanket. He dropped down beside Blair, opening the blanket.

"How is he?"

Blair shook his head. "I don't know yet."

He placed two fingers to the side of Jim's neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, but faint. But Jim's chest wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. Just as Blair was signaling the officer to help start CPR, Jim took a deep shuddering breath, eyes flying open. Blair was so startled he nearly toppled over backwards.

"God! Jim! Talk to me, buddy. Talk to me, " he pleaded.

But it quickly became apparent that something was wrong. Jim's chest was heaving with short, gasping breaths, his eyes wild, moving from side to side, unseeing. Blair had his hands on either side of his friend's face, speaking rapidly.

"Jim! Jim! Listen to me! You got the wind knocked out of you. You have to calm down. Look at me, Jim! Focus on my face, my voice. You have to get your breathing under control." Blair smiled as Jim's eyes came to rest on his face. "That's it, big guy. Keep listening to me. Relax your chest and take a slow breath."

Blair sighed in relief as Jim's body sagged and his breathing began to even out. He ran his hand across Jim's forehead, comforting the man. "Don't try and move, Ok, Jim? The ambulance is on it's way."

So absorbed in his friend, Blair had forgotten about the officer next to him until a flash of yellow caught his eye. The officer was spreading the blanket over Jim. Blair turned and helped cover his friend, then placed one hand on Jim's chest and the other on top of his head. He leaned over.

"How're you doing?"

"It hurts, Blair. God, it hurts."

"I know, buddy. I know."

The sounds of sirens caught his attention and he looked up to see the ambulance racing towards them. The officer jumped up, flagging them down. Blair looked back down at Jim.

"You're going to be fine, man, you hear me?"

Then suddenly the paramedics were there, getting out the gurney, backboard and medical equipment. Jim's hand flailed out from beneath the blanket, grabbing for his Guide.

"Blair!" Jim's voice was high and thin, panicked.

Blair grabbed the Sentinel's hand between both of his.

"It's Ok, Jim. I'm right here."

A single tear escaped from Jim's eye to run silently down his face.

"Blair, I--I can't move my legs."

The next half hour was a blur to Blair. The paramedics pulled him away from Jim, one asking exactly what happened while the other tended to his partner. Blair explained about the hit and run, how Jim had smashed into the windshield and bounced off onto the pavement and now couldn't move his legs. The EMTs placed Jim's neck in a C-collar, strapped him to a backboard and started an IV before placing him on the gurney. He was whisked away into the ambulance, still being worked on, and Blair couldn't even get close enough to reassure him he'd be Ok.

The EMTs told him there was no room for him and closed the doors, racing away with his best friend inside. The shock finally caught up with him then, as he stood there with Jim's blood on his hand, looking at Jim's hat and his own bloody t-shirt laying forgotten in the middle of the street. He wrapped his arms around himself and started to shake, knees giving out on him, forcing him to sit down heavily on the curb.

A touch on his shoulder roused him a moment later and he found himself looking up into the concerned face of that young officer. His name tag read McKennitt.

"Let me take you to the hospital."

Blair nodded. "Thanks, man, I appreciate it." He didn't trust himself to drive Jim's truck right now.

On the way to the hospital, he asked Officer McKennitt to contact Simon and have him meet him there. The officer looked at him funny and Blair realized that he didn't know that Jim was a cop. Blair explained and McKennitt was on the radio instantly, contacting dispatch. How Simon beat them to the hospital Blair never knew, but he was standing there when Blair rushed into the emergency room.

"Simon! Where is he? Where'd they take him?"

Simon placed his hands on Blair's bare shoulders. "Blair, calm down. He's in the room behind me." Blair tried to push past him. "Wait, Sandburg, you can't go in. They're X-raying him."

Blair turned anguished eyes on his partner's boss. "Oh, God, Simon. This is all my fault."

"What? What are you talking about? It was a freak accident."

Blair shook his head. "*I* hit the ball into the street. And... Oh, Jesus, Simon...I rolled Jim over onto his back. I never should've moved him! I knew he hit his back and neck! But I was so scared, I couldn't tell if he was breathing. And now he can't move his legs! Oh, God, what have I done?"

"Stop it right now, Sandburg," Simon commanded. "We don't know--"

"Captain Banks?" a voice interrupted. It was the doctor from Jim's room. Simon and Blair turned to face him.

"I'm Doctor Leeland. I've finished my initial exam of Detective Ellison."

"How is he?" Blair asked. Dr. Leeland took a deep breath. "He has a deep laceration on the back of his head. We've removed the embedded glass fragments and are stitching it closed now. He has superficial scrapes and bruises on his face and arms and will generally be sore all over."

"What about his legs?" Blair cut in.

"Detective Ellison currently has no feeling or movement from the waist down." Blair covered his face with his hands and Simon squeezed his shoulder as the doctor continued.

"The impact with the windshield compressed two of his vertebrae. We're taking him upstairs right now for an MRI to determine the extent of the damage and rule out any possible brain injury."

"It's my fault. I rolled him over onto his back. I never should've moved him," Blair whispered, distraught.

Dr. Leeland regarded the young man before him, so obviously upset. He hastened to put his mind at ease. "You did no damage rolling him over, believe me. The impact with the windshield caused all the harm."

Blair's eyes brightened slightly at the doctor's words. "Can we see him?"

Dr. Leeland nodded just as the exam room doors opened and Jim was wheeled out. "You can ride upstairs with him then wait in his room."

Blair rushed over to his Sentinel, grasping the bigger man's hand, walking beside the moving gurney. Jim still wore the C-collar and lay on the backboard, but his head was now wrapped in a white bandage and he was missing his shirt and pants. His lower body was covered with a hospital blanket. His eyes were closed, but fluttered open at Blair's touch.

"Hey, Jim," Blair whispered.

"Hi, Chief. Nice mess I got myself into, huh?"

"Don't you worry about a thing, Ok?" Blair said as they all got in the elevator. "You're going to be fine."

Jim heard the uncertainty in his Guide's voice, but he already knew there was something seriously wrong with him. He closed his eyes, taking comfort in the presence of his friend, nonetheless.

The elevator doors opened and Blair kept hold of Jim's hand all the way down the hall to the MRI lab.

"They won't let me go any further, Jim. But I'll be waiting in your room when you're done. Hang in there, Ok?" Then his friend was gone, wheeled through the doors.

Blair whirled to face Simon, fury in his eyes.

"Tell me they caught that guy, Simon. Tell me they caught him. Where is he?"

"He's dead, Sandburg."

Blair blinked.

"He robbed a jewelry store a few miles from the basketball court. Shot the owner after she pushed the silent alarm button. The first squad chased him for another few miles before he bailed out. They got into a firefight and Officer Jenkins fatally shot him."

Blair's eyes hardened. "Good. Saves me the trouble."

"Blair..."

The young man sighed, shoulders slumping. "I know, I know. You know I didn't mean that. I'm just--"

"Upset. I know. So am I. Come on, let's go get you cleaned up and find you a shirt. Then you can go wait for Jim while I tackle the mountain of paperwork on this."  


* * *

Blair was dozing in the chair in Jim's room when they brought his friend in. He'd gotten himself cleaned up, pulled his hair back into a ponytail and was now wearing a doctor's green scrub shirt. He stood up and moved out of the way of the orderlies as they transferred Jim form the gurney to the bed. They'd removed the C-collar and backboard, but he was now hooked up to an IV. Jim appeared to be sleeping.

As the orderlies were getting Jim settled, Dr. Leeland walked into the room and motioned for Blair to follow him out into the hall. Blair did so, extending his hand at the same time.

"I'm sorry, I never introduced myself. Blair Sandburg. I'm Jim's roommate."

Dr. Leeland nodded and shook Blair's hand. "Captain Banks told me you wanted to be kept informed of Mr. Ellison's condition."

"Yes, I appreciate it."

"The MRI went well. The data needs to be analyzed further, but from what I can tell, there seems to be no indication of any concussion or injury to the brain at all. Frankly, I think that's a miracle, with as hard as Mr. Ellison hit his head."

Blair chuckled. "I always knew he had a hard head."

Dr. Leeland smiled, then sobered. "Now as for his spinal injury, the entire area surrounding the two vertebrae is completely swollen. Until it goes down it's hard to tell if the nerves are just being compressed, or if the vertebrae themselves have fractured. If they've fractured, bone fragments could have severed part of the spinal cord. Unfortunately it's now just wait and see."

Blair ran a hand across his face, slumping against the wall behind him. "Best case scenario, Doc?"

"Best case? The vertebrae were briefly compressed together, resulting in the swelling and loss of nerve function. The swelling goes down, relieving the pressure on the nerves and Mr. Ellison regains the use of his legs with physical therapy."

"And the worst?"

"The swelling goes down and we find bone fragments in the spinal cord. Depending on how many and where they are, surgery may be an option. Then again, the damage may be irreparable."

Blair swallowed. "Meaning?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Mr. Ellison will be paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of his life."  


* * *

It was well past visiting hours, but Simon being Simon, had pulled enough strings to give Blair much more leeway than the average visitor. Jim had fallen asleep while Blair had gone down to the cafeteria to grab some dinner. It had been two days, and though they were weaning Jim off the painkillers, they still made him drowsy. It was just as well. His body had been through hell and needed all the rest it could get.

So Blair had simply positioned himself in his usual chair and watched over his sleeping Sentinel in the semi-dark room.

These last two days had been pretty rough. Blair had insisted on telling Jim what his condition was himself. Not that Blair didn't respect Dr. Leeland, but he just wanted that information to come from a friend, not a by-the-book doctor.

Jim listened to everything Blair said without so much as a twitch, which worried the young man. He'd expected denial, anger, emotion of some kind, not this stony silence. When Blair finished, Jim asked to be left alone for awhile. Blair did as he asked, understanding. But when he returned, Jim had flatly refused to talk about his condition. Blair persisted, but to no avail. He wanted desperately to help his friend get through this, to find out what he was thinking and feeling, because if this went the wrong way, it would change Jim's life forever.

But all his probing did was make Jim angry, so he had finally backed off, hurt that his friend wouldn't open up to him. So instead, he worked with Jim and his senses. They went through one at a time, making sure nothing had been knocked off-kilter from the accident. Thankfully, everything was on-line.

Blair sighed and pushed his chair closer to Jim's bedside, resisting the urge to hold his hand. With what he'd blurted out at the accident site, that thankfully Jim didn't hear, and all the touching he'd been doing lately...Yeah, that's all Jim needed now, to find out that his *male* Guide was in love with him. And had been for quite some time now. Yep, that would be the end of this friendship real damn quick. And he refused to do anything to jeopardize that. *Especially* now. Whether Jim would admit it or not, he needed his friends around him now.

"Chief?"

The soft voice startled him. Lost in thought, he'd never seen Jim's eyes open.

"Right here, Jim."

A riot of emotions crossed Jim's face at that moment and he swallowed, blinking back sudden tears. Blair's heart plummeted to his stomach at the look of raw emotion he saw reflected in his friend's blue eyes.

"Oh, Christ, Blair.....I'm so scared."

They had found out this morning that the swelling was finally going down. It wouldn't be long now before they knew which scenario Jim's life would be following.

For an instant, Blair couldn't speak. After two days of silence on the subject, Jim must have finally reached his breaking point. For him to finally put into words what he was feeling he must be terrified. And suddenly Blair knew the reason for Jim's silence -- he was scared. Mr. Ex-Special Forces Ranger-turned cop was scared. And for a tough guy like him, he viewed that as a weakness no one should ever see. He was wrong. It didn't make him weak. It made him human.

"Don't be, Jim. I'm here with you all the way. No matter what," he whispered.

"How can you say that? You don't--"

"Because I'm your *friend* dammit. I won't leave because of this. And it hurts that you think I would."

"Blair, I--I may never walk again. My entire life could change in the next day or so--"

"--and I'll be here to help you adapt, if it comes to that. I'm your Guide, too, Jim. That applies to more than your senses. Don't forget that."

"What will I do, Blair? You can't be a detective in a wheel- chair, but being a cop's the only thing I know how to do."

"We'll cross that line when we come to it. *If* we come to it. Don't count yourself out yet, Jim. You have to keep fighting. And please believe that I'll always be here. No matter what."

Jim reached out to squeeze the young man's hand.

"You truly are my best friend, Blair. Thank you."  


* * *

Jim had another MRI the following day and the results looked encouraging. Although the swelling had not gone down completely, so far no bone fragments could be detected. The vertebrae appeared to be intact. By tomorrow they would know for sure.

Bolstered by this news, Dr. Leeland sent in a physical therapist to start doing some easy movements with Jim's legs, preparing him for that best case scenario, hoping to jumpstart some feeling.

Dr. Lynn Philips was a young, attractive, 5'8" thirtysomething with blond hair to her shoulders, hazel eyes and an incredible build. And someone who didn't take "no" for an answer and didn't tolerate slackers. You put everything you had into physical therapy or nothing at all. This was going to be interesting.

She introduced herself and told Blair he was welcome to stay when he went to leave to give them some privacy for the session. Family and friends who gave encouragement to the patient were always welcome. Blair liked her already. He looked down at Jim to make sure it was Ok, and his friend smiled and nodded.

Lynn started with a lower body massage, designed to stimulate the nerve endings. Then she did easy leg movements, both with Jim laying on his back and stomach, checking his range of movement. Jim turned his touch up as far as he could without risking a zone-out during the session, hoping to feel something, anything. He actually thought he might have felt a twinge in his foot, but he couldn't be certain.

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly. Dr. Leeland stopped back in to check the stitches in Jim's head and to tell him there was another MRI scheduled for tomorrow morning. He also took Jim off the mild painkillers, the detective insisting that his head no longer ached and the aches and pains from the accident no longer required medication.

Then Simon dropped in for a visit, letting Jim know that he'd been placed on disability with full pay and to drop off another stack of get-well cards from the precinct. Jim knew his friends at the station wanted to visit him, bu the just wasn't ready for it and he'd asked Simon to pass that along for him. Everyone understood, so they sent flowers and cards instead.

Blair stayed till Jim finished his dinner then left for a bit to go to the university. He'd asked for a leave of absence when this whole thing started, and after explaining to the university administration why, they agreed to give him two months off. He'd been working on extended lesson plans for the professor taking over his classes and needed to drop them off to her.

When he returned, Jim was napping, the TV still on and the remote in his hand. Smiling, Blair removed the remote and turned off the TV. He was reaching to turn off the light above Jim's head when he saw his friend grimace in his sleep. At first Blair thought Jim was dreaming, but then he started to shift restlessly, brow still furrowed and eyes closed. Worried, Blair had just placed his hand on the Sentinel's shoulder, intending to wake him, when Jim came awake himself, crying out in pain.

"Ahh! Oh, God!"

Blair jerked backwards as the unexpected shout, watching as Jim flew up into a sitting position, grabbing at his legs.

"Jim! What's wrong?!"

Jim flopped back against his pillow, only to spring forward again to grab at his legs.

"Blair! My legs! They feel like they're on fire! Oh, God, it hurts!"

Blair stood there, dumbfounded, mouth open, for a split second. Then he grabbed his friend by the shoulders, stilling his movements. Jim whipped his head toward his Guide, eyes wide with pain, to find Blair with a huge smile on his face.

"Jim! Listen to yourself! You just said you could *feel* your legs!"

For a brief, shining instant, time stood still.

Blue eyes locked with blue eyes.

Hope blossomed in two hearts.

The road to recovery now lay before them.

And what a long, tough road it would turn out to be, with an end neither could have foreseen.  


* * *

Blair raced to the nurse's station, reporting Jim's condition and asking for Dr. Leeland. Within minutes, Jim's room was a hive of activity, with medical personnel bustling in and out. Blair couldn't get near his friend, so he took the opportunity to lean against the wall and let the silent tears of joy flow freely from his blue eyes, offering up a prayer of thanks.

Things settled back down about an hour later. Jim was back on mild pain medication, trying to ease the sudden onslaught of feeling in his legs after four days of nothing. More X-rays were done and Dr. Leeland returned to Jim's room with the results as soon as he could. As encouraging as things looked, Jim wouldn't be walking out of the hospital today and back on duty tomorrow.

"Mr. Ellison, with the swelling completely gone now, we were finally able to get a good look at your spine. There *are* two small bone fragments present near the chord. There is some nerve damage, but the fragments are small enough to not risk surgery to remove them. As you well know, you have regained feeling in your legs. *Movement* is another thing. Physical therapy will determine the extent of the nerve damage."

"Are you saying I won't be able to walk like I did before the accident?" Jim asked, fearing his hope for returning to the force was being dashed.

"Right now I think your chance of that is 75%." But then he smiled and clapped Jim on the shoulder. "Prove me wrong, Mr. Ellison. Work hard and prove me wrong."  


* * *

Physical therapy with Dr. Lynn Philips began almost immediately. Jim liked her more and more with each session. She was a no-nonsense woman who didn't take any of his crap, but at the same time, she was deeply dedicated to her work and was compassionate with each patient. She cared about every one of them and wanted nothing more than to help.

They started off easy, seeing what Jim's limits were. It was a slow process at first. Jim's legs couldn't support his own weight, much to his frustration. Lynn fitted him with braces and a walker, and soon he was shuffling down the hallway, Blair always at his side.

It was the end of his session for the day, and Jim lay on his stomach on the mat, letting his mind wander as Lynn gave him a well-deserved rubdown. He'd really given it his all today. And, as usual, his mind wandered to his favorite topic: his Guide.

Jim had to admit, the kid was doing wonders for him. Really keeping his spirits up throughout this whole ordeal. Always encouraging him to try hard, work at the exercises a bit longer, and most importantly -- not to give up. There were times when he would become so mad at his body for not performing the way he wanted it to, he'd just go off on a tear -- knocking stuff around, ranting and raving about how he'd never get better and be able to go home and back to work.

Through it all, his Guide would just stand there, silent, until Jim had exhausted himself. Then he would say the same thing.

"Are you through?"

And of course he'd nod and Blair would say, "Good. Now get your ass back on this mat and start the exercise over again."

And each of the four times that had happened, Jim wanted nothing more than to reach over and kiss the young man and tell him how much he loved him.

Because he did. With his heart and soul.

But he'd be damned if he'd take the chance on messing up the best friendship he'd ever had, gambling that Blair felt the same towards him. Because if he didn't, and he lost Blair, he didn't know what he'd do.

He remembered the exact instant he'd fallen in love with his Guide; when he'd finally accepted the fact that it didn't matter that Blair was a man. What he felt in his heart as he held Blair in his arms, the young man high on Golden, trembling uncontrollably -- transcended any gender concerns. His partner, his *friend*, could have died that night, and it took that horrible thought for him to finally realize what he felt for Blair was more than just friendship.

With a sudden jolt, Jim realized that the texture of the hands massaging his legs had changed. Along with the size. He turned his head to find himself staring into the semi- embarrassed face of his Guide. Who's hands were now kneading his legs.

"Chief?"

"Oh, umm...Lynn said that depending on how things go tomorrow, you could be getting out of here in a day or so, but you're still gonna need to do your exercises and get rub- downs, so she wanted me to learn how." He took a breath. "Do you mind?"

(Mind? I'm lying here half naked and you're running your hands over me)

Jim cleared his throat. "No, of course not, Chief."

(Oh, God, did my voice sound as shaky as I thought?)

His Sentinel hearing picked up on Blair's soft sigh and increased heartbeat as he resumed the massage. Jim turned his head back around, resting it on the mat and turned up his sense of touch, wanting to savor every moment of this. He was lost in the sensation of Blair's hands running up and down his legs, the fingers kneading his flesh, creeping higher towards the bottom of his shorts...

"Are you ready for tomorrow, big guy?"

Jim blinked, Blair's question jolting him back from the beginnings of a zone-out. (Tomorrow? Oh, yeah. The big day)

Tomorrow Jim would stand between the parallel bars and take his first steps without the braces and without holding onto the bars. If he succeeded, it meant his release from the hospital.

"More than ready, Chief. More than ready."  


* * *

Blair stood with Simon at the opposite end of the parallel bars from his friend, practically holding his breath. This was it. The moment of truth. Time to see if Jim truly was on the road to recovery. Blair couldn't have been prouder of the Sentinel. Jim had worked his ass off, determined to prove Dr. Leeland wrong. It had been a rough ride so far, with lots of sweat, tears and anger along the way. But Jim had finally made it to this point.

Jim stood between the bars, holding on for right now, wearing a special leather belt around his waist. The belt was for Lynn to grab onto in case Jim lost his balance. For now, Lynn sat on a low stool with wheels, facing Jim. She would roll herself backwards as Jim walked forward.

"Any time you're ready, Jim. Take your time."

Jim took a deep breath and looked up, searching for Blair. Their eyes locked and Blair smiled, nodding his head and giving the thumbs-up sign. Jim nodded back, a look of intense concentration on his face. He looked down at the floor, back up at Blair...and released his grip.

For a moment, he just wavered there, then his right foot raised up off the floor a few inches and his leg swung forward...foot coming to rest six inches in front of him.

Jim Ellison had just taken his first unaided step.

It felt like an eternity before Jim made it to the other end of the parallel bars. He was sweating and his face had lost some of it's color, but he hadn't once touched the bars or had Lynn hold him steady. He did it all on his own.

He did grab hold when he reached the end, amidst the clapping from Blair, Simon and Lynn, for his legs were shaking from the strain. Blair crossed the few feet separating them to hug his friend. Jim threw an arm around Blair's shoulders, drawing the young man closer.

"You did it, man. You did it," whispered Blair, voice wavering with emotion.

"Let's go home, Chief," Jim whispered back, throat tight.  


* * *

True to her word, Lynn released Jim the next evening with the blessing of Dr. Leeland, who was more than happy to see his patient walk out under his own power. Of course Jim was nowhere near 100%, so he would still be required to come back for one physical therapy session a week with Lynn, plus doing his exercises at home with Blair's help. He also had a cane, which he protested until Simon good-naturedly threatened to beat him with if he didn't take it. So, armed with his cane, ankle weights, portable mat and exercise instructions, he climbed into his truck and let Blair drive them home.

The first obstacle were the stairs leading up to the loft. Jim's left leg was his worst one, a bit sluggish and prone to give out on him, more so when climbing stairs.

"Just take it slow, man. I'm right behind you," Blair reassured Jim.

"Thanks, Chief, I think I've got it."

Blair smiled as Jim climbed the stairs slowly, but with little difficulty.

"You're just getting better and better every day," Blair complemented him as he opened the door to the loft. "Pretty soon you're going to be asking me to go for a run."

Jim laughed as he walked inside. "I just may do that sooner than you think, Chief."

Blair squeezed the big man's shoulder and said seriously, "I hope so, Jim. I really do."

They remained that way for a long moment, gazes locked, feeling something undefinable pass between them in the span of a heartbeat.

Blair blinked, severing the connection and taking a step backwards, dropping his hand and averting his gaze, suddenly flustered.

He cleared his throat. "Well, umm, come on, man. Let's get you settled," he said, moving into the living room and putting Jim's bags on the floor near the couch.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Jim replied distractedly. What the hell had just happened there? "I'm just gonna go upstairs and change my clothes," he said, moving toward the stairs.

"Woah! I don't think so, Jim," Blair responded, moving to intercept his friend. "Lynn said to take it easy. You are *not* climbing up and down those stairs. That's all I need. Lynn trusted me to help you and I let you take a header down a flight of stairs." He shook his head. "I don't think so."

Jim was irritated. "Sandburg, don't be ridiculous. I can--"

Blair crossed his arms over his chest. "Forget it, Jim. You're sleeping in my room this week. When you go back to see Lynn next week, we'll ask her if it's Ok for you to be climbing up and down stairs."

"You're not going to budge on this, are you?"

"Nope."

Jim threw his arms up. "Ok. Fine. You win. Now will you please get me a clean shirt and a pair of shorts? I'd like to wash up." Blair opened his mouth, but Jim cut him off. "I know. Be careful of the stitches in my head. No showers yet. Baths only. God, you guys are treating me like I'm made out of eggshells. I'm not going to slip in the shower, for Christ sake."

Blair sighed. "Jim, please. You just got released today. You know you're not 100% yet. We're just trying to look out for you."

Jim turned and started toward the bathroom without a word, leaving Blair to call after him. "When you're done I thought we'd watch Mission:Impossible. I rented it yesterday. I'll make popcorn, too."

His answer was the slam of the bathroom door.

Blair hung his head, then turned and jogged up the stairs, recalling Lynn's words to him that afternoon.

{"He's going to think he's invincible now that's he's passed the first hurdle. He's going to try and push himself too far, too fast. You're going to have to reign him in and he's not going to like it."}

"That's an understatement, " murmured Blair as he rummaged through Jim's dresser, choosing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. As an afterthought, he also grabbed clean socks and boxers. He jogged back down the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door. He could hear the water filling up in the tub.

"Come in."

Blair opened the door to find Jim in just his black boxers sitting on the closed lid of the toilet watching the water fill up in the tub. The man's body was truly magnificent. And he wanted to touch every part of it. Right then.

Too late, he realized that the Sentinel had picked up on his suddenly pounding heart and was staring at him. Blair dropped the clothes on the sink's counter and quickly backed out of the room, mumbling, "Take your time, man. Just yell if you need anything."

Jim stared at the closed door. (But what if what I need is *you*?)  


* * *

The heady aroma of popcorn filled the loft when Jim emerged refreshed from his bath. Blair was already on the couch, the large bowl of popcorn sitting next to him and the tape in the VCR. Jim eased himself down next to the young man with a contented sigh.

"Feeling better?" Blair questioned.

Jim glanced down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Blair. I didn't mean to snap at you. I know you only want to help."

"No need to apologize, Jim. I know you're frustrated."

"Well, that doesn't mean I have to take it out on you," he said softly with a smile. Then he looked around the loft. "It's sure good to be home."

"And I'm glad to have you back, man. It's been *way* too quiet around here. I didn't even feel like making a mess because there was no one to irritate," Blair joked.

Jim laughed and whacked Blair on the shoulder before turning serious.

"I haven't thanked you for everything you've done, Blair. It really means a lot to me. You didn't have to constantly be at the hospital with me, be at all my physical therapy sessions and you *certainly* didn't have to take a leave of absence."

"That's what friends are for." Blair replied simply.

Jim shook his head. "No. Just a *friend* would have sent me a card or flowers or stopped by for a visit. You went far beyond that. Blair, I...I've never had anyone in my life who cares for me, looks out for me the way you do."

Blair was more than touched. "It goes both ways, Jim. For the first time in my life I want to stay somewhere for more than a month. I've never had a friendship like this. Even though I'm younger than you, you treat me like your equal and don't talk down to me. And you make me feel needed, not just tolerating me being around because of the Sentinel thing."

"That's because you *are* needed, Blair."

Blair took a breath. This was really getting deep, but it really felt good to talk about these things.

"Thanks, Jim. That means a lot to *me*."

Blair opened his mouth to say something else, but suddenly got a strange look on his face, swallowed thickly and looked away from Jim.

Jim reached up and touched his friend's shoulder. When had he moved so close to the young man?

"Chief? What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Blair turned back to look at him, eyes bright with unshed tears. "I just suddenly had a flash of you getting hit by that car, your body hitting the windshield..." he swallowed thickly. "...and then when I realized you weren't breathing... Jesus, Jim. I've never been so scared in my life. I thought I was going to lose you."

"Oh, Blair..."

"I had nightmares the first few nights you were in the hospital. It was that same scene, over and over again, only it changed at the end. Instead of you waking up, you just laid there and I couldn't get you to start breathing again. And you died right there in the street."

A single tear finally broke loose to run down Blair's cheek. Seemingly of its own accord, Jim's hand moved from Blair's shoulder to lay against the young man's face, his thumb brushing through the tear track. Blair's eyes closed slightly and Jim could feel him lean into the touch.

His voice was low and rough when he spoke. "I'm so sorry I put you through all this, Blair."

"I'm just glad you're going to be all right."

"I will be, with your help and support."

Blair suddenly realized that their faces were mere inches apart. When had they moved so close to each other? He was drowning in Jim's eyes, spiraling out of control...

Jim was awash in the sensations he was getting from Blair -- the warmth of his skin beneath his palm, the sound of Blair's pounding heart and quick breaths, Blair's own unique scent and the look of raw emotion in those blue eyes. He shifted his hand to the back of the young man's head, burying it in the soft curls at the base of his neck. He saw Blair's eyes widen and watched in fascination as the tip of his pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

(I can't take this any more. I have to tell him...) thought one man.

(I need him, want him so bad...) thought the other.

Two voices breathed at the same time.

"Blair, I--"  
"Jim, I--"

{BANG!}

The popcorn bowl slid off the couch and hit the floor, contents flying everywhere, the two men springing apart as if they'd been burned.

Jim pushed himself up off the couch and backed up, looking everywhere but at Blair, who'd dropped to the floor and was shoving popcorn back into the bowl, trying to get his breathing under control.

"Umm, listen, Chief, I'm really tired, I'm just gonna go to bed, Ok?" Jim said rapidly, already moving toward Blair's room.

Blair never looked up from his task. "Yeah, sure, man. Get some rest. I'll clean this up."

He waited till he saw Jim enter his room out of the corner of his eye before slumping against the couch. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the armrest.

(Please tell me that meant he wants this as much as I do, because I can't wait any longer.)  


* * *

Jim immediately knew sleeping in Blair's room was a big mistake. After what just went on in the living room...and now he was *surrounded* by Blair's essence.

He quickly stripped down to his boxers and climbed in bed. And his sense of smell was nearly overloaded with Blair's scent. It permeated the blanket, sheets and pillow case. Jim clutched the pillow and buried his face in it, inhaling deeply. He felt his cock surge and he moaned quietly, realizing that Blair was still in the living room and he'd left the door to the bedroom partly open.

He rolled over onto his back, replaying the scene on the couch over in his mind. He'd intended to apologize to Blair for snapping at him then ask for a rubdown; his legs were aching. But things quickly went in an entirely different direction, and given another five minutes he would have been kissing his Guide. His cock jumped again at the thought. And it sure looked as if Blair had wanted the same thing. Or did he? Their emotions were running high, he was trying to comfort his friend... Was it just the heat of the moment? Both trying to reassure the other that things were going to be Ok after the horror of the accident and his brush with paralysis?

Jim sighed in frustration. How could he think Blair "Woman-of- the-week" Sandburg would be interested in him? A *man*? But he saw the way Blair had let his eyes start to drift close, felt him lean into his touch, heard his pounding heart...

Jim flopped over onto his side, wrapping his arms around Blair's pillow. This was getting him nowhere. Maybe he'd see things clearer in the morning. He closed his eyes and let Blair's scent wash over him, knowing without a doubt his dreams tonight would be filled with a certain long-haired anthropologist.  


* * *

Lost in his thoughts, Jim never realized that Blair had finished cleaning up the popcorn and turned off all the lights in the loft. He also didn't know that the young man fell asleep on the couch instead of upstairs in his bed.  


* * *

An uncomfortable pressure in his bladder forced Blair awake around 2am. He rolled himself off the couch, where he'd fallen asleep hours earlier, and stumbled into the bathroom.

He'd finished cleaning up the popcorn and turned off the lights, heading for the stairs and Jim's bed, but something had stopped him. What if Jim needed something during the night, or got a leg cramp? If he was upstairs he might not hear him. So he stripped down to his boxers and curled up on the couch, ears on alert.

Emerging from the bathroom a few minutes later, he decided to get himself a glass of juice before heading back to the couch. Halfway there, he thought he heard a noise coming from his room. He noticed the door was about halfway open, so he thought he'd look in on the Sentinel. He was almost to the door when he heard his name.

"Blair..."

Immediately thinking something was wrong, Blair quickly strode over to the door and opened it all the way, standing in the doorway.

And saw something out of his fantasies.

Jim had thrown off the covers some time during the night and his beautiful body was on display for Blair to see. He lay on his side, facing Blair, almost on his stomach. His top leg was bent at the knee, the bottom one straight. His head lay on the mattress, for he had his arms wrapped around Blair's pillow, holding it to him.

"Mmm, Blair..."

Blair jumped, his gaze flying up to Jim's face...to find the older man's eyes closed and brow furrowed in either pleasure or pain, Blair couldn't tell. He released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Jim was dreaming, talking in his sleep. About *him*.

"Blair...please..."

But he wasn't just talking. He was moving, too.

In the half-light of the bedroom, Blair watched in erotic fascination as Jim's hips lifted up, then pushed back down into the mattress. He repeated the action again, more forcefully, sliding his groin along the sheet. Jim wore his boxers, but it didn't take a genius to know he was hard and aching for release in his sleep.

Blair gripped the doorjamb till his knuckles turned white as Jim again moaned softly, still thrusting his hips. He found himself mentally encouraging the big man, growing more aroused by the second.

(That's it, Jim...harder, man, harder...)

As if he could read Blair's thoughts, Jim's movements became more frantic, grinding himself into the bed, his breathing quickening.

"Yes...yes..." (That's it, Jim...let me see you come...)

With one more powerful thrust, Jim's body suddenly stiffened and he grunted into the pillow, spilling his seed inside his boxers, his orgasm complete. As his body relaxed, he breathed softly, "Blair..."

Blair backed quickly away from his room, his erection tenting out the front of his boxers. He practically sprinted to the bathroom and tore off his underwear. He jerked himself off roughly, practically passing out as his semen flowed out in thick spurts over his hand. That had to be the most erotic experience in his life, watching his friend climax in his sleep, calling out his name.

He got his breathing under control and cleaned himself off as fast as he could. Jim would no doubt wake up any minute now and need to clean himself up as well. He didn't need Jim finding him in the bathroom with his boxers down around his ankles, the smell of semen in the air.

He exited the bathroom, not detecting any sounds from his bedroom yet, and crept up the stairs to Jim's bed, where he would spend the remainder of the night. He smiled as he slipped between the sheets, his heart practically bursting. After what he'd just witnessed, all his doubts were swept away.

Come tomorrow morning he'd hide his feelings no more.  


* * *

Jim awoke to the sound of bacon frying and the smell of scrambled eggs. He rose stiffly from Blair's small bed, an ache shooting through his left leg. He groaned and ran a hand over his face. Man, what a night. He opened the door to see Blair busy in the kitchen, moving from frying pan to skillet to toaster. He saw the dining room table set with the breakfast dishes, so he made his way slowly toward it. The movement caught Blair's attention and he turned.

"Hey, Jim," he greeted his friend, flashing him a million-dollar smile. "Go ahead and sit down, breakfast'll be ready in a minute," he continued, then noticed the big man favoring his left leg as he walked to the table. Blair turned back to the stove, turning off the burners and said over his shoulder, "Leg bothering you this morning? After we eat I'll give you a rubdown and we can start on your exercises, Ok?" Not waiting for an answer, he prattled on, serving up the eggs, bacon and toast. "Thought I'd make you a big breakfast today, I know how tired you are of that bland hospital food. Do you want coffee or juice, big guy?"

He turned, plates in hand, to find the older man just staring at him.

"Jim? Hey, Jim, you Ok?"

Jim blinked, then seemed to focus in on his surroundings once more.

"Coffee's fine, Sandburg," he said in a monotone.

Blair nodded and smiled again, placing the steaming plates of food on the table before returning to the kitchen for the drinks.

Jim could only stare at his Guide, despair washing over him. Blair was acting as if nothing had ever happened last night. It was just as he'd feared; emotions were running high and that was that. Jim sighed. If only he could just write it off as that and forget about it. But it would only return in his dreams, as it did last night. Good God. He hadn't had a wet dream since high school. And never one like that one. Dreaming of Blair going down on him, his orgasm had been intense, fueled by his emersion in Blair's scent and environment. It was a damn good thing he'd left his other clothes in the bathroom, so he had those boxers to put on after he cleaned himself up.

Then Blair was back, placing his coffee mug in front of him, then sitting down across from him. The young man picked up a forkful and started shoveling it in, chatting about anything and everything between mouthfulls. He was in high spirits and never seemed to notice that Jim ate on auto-pilot and gave only non-committal answers to his questions.

Blair gathered up the dishes when they were done, telling Jim, "I'll clean all this up. Why don't you go splash some water on your face? I put clean clothes in the bathroom for you."

Jim pushed his chair back and stood. "Thanks. I'll be back in a bit."

When Jim returned, wearing the dark green cotton shorts and plain white t-shirt left for him, Blair already had the mat set up on the floor. The exercise instructions and ankle weights lay next to it. Blair appeared from his room just then, also dressed in fresh shorts and shirt, barefoot, running a hand through his curls. He grinned at Jim.

"Hey, man. All set? Go ahead and lay down and stretch out, I'm just gonna go comb my hair and brush my teeth."

Jim nodded and watched his Guide disappear into the bathroom. Then he looked at the mat and sighed. Great. Now he was going to have to endure Blair touching him for the next half hour. Could this *possibly* get any worse?  


* * *

"Ok, Jim, let's work on that left leg first."

Jim lay on his back on the mat, Blair on his knees at his feet. Blair picked up Jim's left foot and placed it on his right shoulder, bending Jim's leg at the knee. Then he placed one hand on Jim's ankle and the other just below his knee.  
"Alright, you know the drill. I'm gonna lean forward, bending your leg toward you chest and you exert pressure back, Ok?"

Jim nodded, closed his eyes and began the exercise, trying to ignore Blair's hands on him. Which became increasingly difficult after a few minutes when the young man's hands shifted and began to lightly massage his thigh as he moved his leg back and forth. He was about to stop the exercise when Blair spoke.

"Sooo...sleep well last night?"

Jim's entire body froze, his heart skipped a beat and his eyes flew open. (Blair couldn't possibly...) He immediately knew what he'd done and tried to cover, acting nonchalant. He cleared his throat, trying to get some moisture back in his suddenly dry mouth.

"Just fine, Chief. Just fine," he lied, looking away from those piercing blue eyes. But they shot back again as Blair gently lowered his leg to the mat, then slowly ran one hand up his thigh to rest just under the hem of his shorts.

Jim sucked in a breath and watched as his Guide's eyes darkened.

"B--Blair?"

"I saw you, Jim," he whispered. "And I heard you, too..." he trailed off. Jim pushed himself up, resting on his forearms, trying to process what Blair was saying, his heart pounding wildly.

"I'm tired of trying to suppress my feelings," Blair continued. "And after what I saw last night, I'm not afraid to say what I feel. And what I feel for you goes beyond friendship."

Then Blair was quiet, holding his breath, waiting for Jim to say something. Jim pushed himself up into a sitting position, laying his palm against Blair's cheek.

"Our friendship. That's why I never said anything," Jim began. "You mean so much to me, Blair. And I couldn't risk losing you if the feelings weren't reciprocated. And now...now I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I honestly never thought this day would come."

"You're not the only one who's scared. I know what I'm feeling, but...Jim...I've never been with a man before. And I'm so confused, but this just feels so *right*, I--"

Jim placed a finger on Blair's lips, quieting him. "Shh. It's Ok. This is a first for me, too. But I'll tell you what we're *not* going to do. Talk about it, analyze it, or try to understand it. Not right now." He smiled. "There are other things I'd rather do right now."

"I want to touch you," Blair blurted out.

Jim chuckled. "Anywhere you want, babe. But not here, on the floor. Come upstairs with me?"

Blair's face lit up. "I thought you'd never ask."  


* * *

Blair helped Jim to his feet, then wrapped an arm around his waist as they made their way up the stairs to Jim's bedroom.

"Gotta make sure you don't fall and hurt yourself. I've waited a long time for this," he said as a way of explanation.

Once they reached their destination both men turned suddenly shy, unsure of how to proceed, until Jim took the lead. He took Blair's hand and lead him over to the bed. He sat on the edge, spread open his legs and had Blair kneel between them. Then he took Blair's hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart.

"Touch me, Blair," he pleaded, voice tinged with desire.

Blair's eyes widened and he licked his lips, he could practically feel his blood humming through his veins. He brought his other hand up and splayed his fingers, touching as much of Jim's shirt- clad chest as he could. The flesh was warm beneath his palm, solid, but soft at the same time. He ran his hands slowly downward, watching them, as they brushed over two flat nipples. He heard and felt Jim's sigh and saw the Sentinel close his eyes and lean his head back slightly. His hands came to rest on Blair's shoulders. Spurred on by the reaction, he used just his thumbs to caress the nubs to hard points standing out from beneath the shirt.

"Oh, Blair..." he heard the big man breathe.

Blair moved his hands lower, down the tight abdomen to Jim's flat stomach. He grasped the bottom of Jim's shirt, looking up at his face. Jim nodded and raised his arms up, letting Blair pull the shirt off. The young man rested his hands on Jim's hips, still looking at him.

"You're beautiful..." he whispered.

Jim smiled, his heart swelling with Blair's words. "And you haven't even seen all of me yet," he teased.

"Give me time," Blair answered with a smile.

"Take all the time you want, baby. Explore till your heart's content."

So Blair repeated his earlier movements, running his hands down and across Jim's chest, reveling in the direct contact this time. He again teased the flat nipples, but then surprised his partner by suddenly leaning forward to flick his tongue across one. Jim's entire upper body jerked.

"Jesus! Again, Blair..."

Not one to disappoint, Blair wrapped his arms around Jim, spanning his back, bringing the man closer to him. He felt one of Jim's arms wrap around his shoulders, the other hand tangle in his long curls, holding him to him. Blair laved one nipple then the other with his tongue, sucking, driving Jim wild. He could feel the big man's erection pressing against his stomach.

"Oh, yeah, Blair...I like that."

With a final suckle and nip of his teeth, Blair's head dipped lower. That straining erection was just too inviting. He had to see, feel, taste, what he'd dreamed about for so long. He buried his face in Jim's lap, inhaling the musky smell of the man's desire. He moved one hand up to cup Jim's balls through his shorts and boxers. They felt wonderfully heavy in his hand, and he rolled them in their sac, smiling as Jim's hips bucked upwards.

"Ohhh, yeah..."

Blair nuzzled the older man's erection with his face, before nipping at it through the material. Then suddenly he was being lifted in the air by two hands under his armpits. With a growl, Jim deposited him on the bed, stretching out next to him. He grasped Blair's hand and pressed it between his legs.

"Do you feel that, Blair? That's how much I need you, want you," he breathed.

"Oh, god, Jim. I need you, too."

Then there were no more words as their lips met for the very first time.

Sensory overload would be an apt description of what the two men experienced at that moment. Jim struggled to dial everything down before he lost control, but Blair could do nothing but be washed away by the sensations. That first kiss was hot and hard, months and months of pent up emotions finally finding release.

Their mouths opened at the same time, granting the other entrance. Two tongues dueled wildly, sliding against each other, tasting each other for the first time. Two simultaneous moans filled the air as heads tilted from side to side, trying to deepen an already intense kiss.

Only when Jim's lungs were close to bursting from lack of oxygen, did he pull back. Blair's eyes were smoky with desire, face flushed, lips red and puffy. Jim had never seen a more arousing sight. He reached for the bottom of Blair's shirt.

"I have to see you, have to touch you, " he panted.

Blair nodded and raised up, allowing Jim to strip the shirt from him. For a moment, Jim just stared. Then he said, "You're wrong you know. *You're* the beautiful one." Then he was forcing Blair's legs apart so he could rest one of his own between them. He took one large hand and laid it flat on Blair's abdomen. Then he turned it so that his fingers brushed just under the young man's waistband. He felt Blair's stomach muscles quiver at his touch.

"Jim..."

"Right here, baby."

Then his mouth was on his Guide's once again, as his hand continued it's exploration of the body beneath it. This time the kiss was gentle, passionate, their initial hunger sated for the time being. Jim moved his hand up, running his fingers through the soft mat of chest hair. He turned up his sense of touch, feeling each strand brush against his fingertips. Then he moved to the right, finding the hidden nipple, the one with the thin gold ring threaded through it. Blair moaned into the kiss, tongue thrusting a little more urgently against Jim's.

Jim played with the nub, rolling it between his fingers, coaxing it into hardness, before gently tugging on the gold ring.

"Ahh...! Jim, please...." pleaded Blair, breaking the kiss.

"Please, what?" he teased, tugging once again on the nipple ring.

With surprising speed, Blair flipped out from beneath Jim, crouching next to him, hands on the Sentinel's waistband.

"Please, *this*," he replied, tugging off the offending garments, sending them flying across the room. Jim gasped as the cool air of the loft washed over his exposed body. His swollen cock bounced lightly against his belly, attracting Blair's attention. He rested his hand on Jim's thigh, then hesitated. He'd never done this before. What if--?

"Blair? Blair, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Maybe we should slow this down," said Jim, sounding like he wanted to do anything but.

Blair shook his head. "No, I want to. I've just never..."

"Do whatever you want, baby. Whatever comes natural. I just need to feel you touching me."

Blair smiled, then spread apart Jim's legs, kneeling between them. He reached out with one finger, touching just the tip of Jim's cock, swirling it through the moisture he found there. Jim arched back into the pillows, his breath escaping in a hiss. Blair let his finger travel downward, drawing the moisture with it. He trailed it down the shaft, feeling it jump and pulse beneath his fingertip. He reached the base, then cupped Jim's balls in his palm, gently kneading them.

"Yeah, Blair...that's it..."

Encouraged by Jim's words, Blair gripped the cock in his hand and pumped the shaft twice, quickly. Jim arched up off the bed with a strangled cry as Blair kept up the motion.

"Like that?" he asked softly.

"Don't...don't stop..."

Blair smiled. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. How 'bout this, then?" he asked, dipping his head and taking his first taste of Jim.

As Blair's hot, wet mouth engulfed the head of his cock, Jim thought he'd died and gone to heaven. His hands flew to Blair's shoulders, hips arching up. He could feel Blair's tongue licking the tip, swallowing the pre-cum he found there. Blair's hand never stopped it's pumping, now in synch with the sucking his mouth was doing.

"Blair...Blair...yes, baby, suck me...suck me..."

Blair's own erection surged at Jim's words and he moaned around the hard cock in his mouth. Jim could feel the sound vibrating against him and he almost lost it right then. But he'd be damned if he came before he tasted his Guide.

Gripping Blair's upper arms, he pulled the young man away from his cock, Blair whimpering in protest, to slide up his chest. He plundered Blair's mouth with his tongue, tasting himself. His Guide pressed himself downward, sliding their groins together. Sweet torture.

Flipping Blair onto his back, Jim reached down and pulled off his shorts and boxers in one swift move. He raked his eyes hungrily over Blair's body, stopping to rest on the erect cock with the bead of moisture on the tip.

Jim licked his lips. "My turn," he growled.

Blair held his breath, knowing what was about to happen and wanting it more than anything. Jim hoped Blair would forgive him for not teasing like he did, but he so desperately needed to taste his Guide. So, cupping Blair's balls in one hand, he latched his mouth onto his cock, sucking greedily.

"Jim! Oh, god!"

Blair's hips slammed upwards, nearly choking the Sentinel. But Jim recovered quickly, moving his hand to pump Blair's cock, mimicking the young man's movements from earlier. He could feel the blood pounding through Blair's shaft, steel encased in satin, smell the desire, the need, emanating from him, hear the frantic beating of his heart and the soft moans that drove him onward.

"Jim, wait...please. Not yet, not yet. Make it last, make it last. I can't...I'm going to..."

Blair's pleading finally made it through the haze of his senses and he stilled his movements, knowing instinctively what his Guide wanted, needed. He quickly covered Blair's body with his own, their naked cocks coming in contact with each other for the first time.

Jim's cock, wet with Blair's saliva, and Blair's cock, wet with Jim's, slid against each other smoothly, erotically.

Two voices cried out.

"Jim!"  
"Blair!"

"Oh, god, Jim...Move! Do something, please," Blair begged.

So Jim began to thrust against him, feeling an answering upward thrust from Blair. Their cocks slid against each other sensuously, hips grinding together, balls touching.

They were destined not to last long. Not this first time. They were already too far over the edge.

Jim detected the change in Blair's breathing and heartbeat a split second before the young man spoke.

"Jim...Jim...I can't hold on..."

Jim's voice was low and laced with desire when he answered, his mouth near Blair's ear.

"Then let go, babe. I want to watch you come, I want to hear you come, just like you did me."

Jim's erotic talk hurled Blair over the edge. He wrapped his arms fiercely around Jim's neck, burying his face in the older man's shoulder. He came with a sob, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his warm semen pump from his body; the intense orgasm leaving him limp and breathless.

The moment Jim's cock slid into Blair's semen, he was lost. He felt his world shatter around him as his climax overtook him, crying out Blair's name.  


* * *

Jim had no idea how long it was before he became aware of his surroundings again and felt Blair shift beneath him. He rolled to his side, taking his weight off the smaller body beneath him. His limbs felt like lead and he could barely keep his eyes open. He felt completely drained, but totally happy.

He blindly reached off the side of the bed, grabbing his discarded shirt. He wiped himself clean, pausing to inhale the musky smell of sex still in the air, before turning to Blair. His lover's eyes were closed, but he wasn't quite asleep yet. Jim gently cleaned his belly and softened penis, then tossed the shirt to the floor.

He looked down at the long haired anthropologist laying in his bed, still amazed that this day had finally happened. He wrapped a long curl around his finger, watching the soft strands caress it. Jim moved his hand higher, softly running his finger along the side of Blair's face. The young man stirred, leaning into the touch, blue eyes fluttering open. They came to rest on the Sentinel hovering above him and he smiled.

Tears flooded Jim's eyes and he blinked rapidly. "I love you, Blair," he whispered gruffly. "I can't believe how much I need you. I've never felt this way before. Please...don't ever leave."

"Oh, Jim..." Blair whispered back, moved by Jim's confession. "I'm not going anywhere. How could I? You have my heart."

Jim crushed Blair to him in a fierce hug, then captured his mouth for a tender kiss.

"I love you, too, Jim," said Blair when they pulled apart. "And I always will."

Jim smiled. "I'm gonna hold you to that, you know."

Blair smiled back, suddenly too tired to answer. Jim rolled him over onto his side, then spooned up behind him, holding him close. His lover was almost asleep when Jim spoke again.

"Chief?"

"Mmm?"

He smiled into the young man's shoulder. "If this is your idea of physical therapy, I'll be running any day now."  


**THE END**

* * *

Send comments to the author at AgtSpooky@aol.com.  
  



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